


Argument

by foundCarcosa



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighting like cats and dogs. In heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Argument

They’d been at each other’s throats all the day long — not just about the mages themselves, but about Orsino’s idealism and Meredith’s tyrannism, about the constant threat of forbidden magic being practised when the enchanters’ eyes were diverted, about the suspicion that devoured the Knight-Commander and made her judgement quick as lightning. They’d seethed and snarled at each other, bright blue eyes blazing and lithe fingers curled into fists, bodies straining towards one another and being repelled by the waves of enmity that poured out of their words.

Enmity… no. Perhaps Meredith imagined she hated Orsino, and perhaps Orsino imagined he returned her sentiment. But the truth refused to be categorised so simply.

Night settled over Kirkwall like a blanket over a sleeping form, and still the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter seethed in their respective offices, across the narrow corridor from one another.  
Orsino tapped his foot rapidly on the floor and gnawed at his nails.  
Meredith slammed her fist into the tough wood of the desk and gnashed her teeth.

It was Meredith who pushed away from her desk, blood boiling and face flushed, and slammed open the door of Orsino’s office.

“I’m sick of you,” she bit out.

“Likewise,” he snapped.

Orsino was barely out of his chair before she was upon him, slamming his back onto the desk, ripping open the clasps of her armour with one quick but trembling hand. Gleaming steel clattered to the desk, was immediately pushed off onto the floor, was followed by the sash that held her daggers and the thick shirt that protected her flesh from the armour.  
In skirt and undershirt she loomed over Orsino, flaxen hair tumbling into her reddened face, and all Orsino could do was splay his arms over the desk and let her snatch at the fastenings that held his robes closed.

She found him quickened and ready, but when his hips rolled anxiously to meet her hand she slapped at his cock instead, eliciting a sharp hiss from the mage. Reflexively, his arm twitched to retaliate, only to be slammed back into the desk. “Who do you think you are?” she seethed, grinding hard against him, feverish heat radiating from her core and into him, and he snarled and hissed and snapped his teeth at her, but she had him in her grasp and wasn’t letting go.

When she took him, she took him without preamble and without sound, slamming down on him with zealous fury, grinding herself into him with enough force to start a fire, and she slapped him hard every time his hips so much as twitched upward to meet hers. She set the pace, thighs clenching as she reared up and slammed back down, teeth gritted and blazing eyes narrowed in something like concentration and something like anger. Under the thin shirt, her breasts bounced, and try as he might, she wouldn’t let him near them.

He struggled against her as his arousal mounted, chest heaving and teeth bared, but she was heavier than him and stronger than him and much more powerful than him, and the more he struggled, the harder she rode him. He shuddered and twitched as she tightened around his cock, not caring how he sounded, not caring if his head thudded against the desk and his mouth hung open and his voice pleaded with her—

“Shut up,” Meredith hissed, before her forearm crushed his windpipe.  
Stars flashed in Orsino’s vision, and he gasped and choked and struggled even harder, but though he now had a hand free with which to push her off, he succeeded none. His sight went hazy, and when his brain dropped out of the running, his body flared to life.

He felt everything — the pulling of Meredith’s core, the tightness of her thighs on either side of his, the sinuous and pronounced undulating of her hips as she viciously sought her release. Likewise, he felt the uncoiling in his gut, the heat building in his groin, the twitching of his cock deep within her. He strained to breathe, and strained to come, and it was the latter that won out — a convulsion and a release that felt like the melting of all his muscles, that flushed him red from head to toe, that brought the prick of agonised-ecstatic tears to his eyes.

She let up as her own release followed, her hips grinding into his one last time, her thighs trembling against his and her eyes shut tight as she gasped and finally cried out, only once, but once was enough.

She left him just the way he was, panting and coughing and still shuddering from the aftershocks, without a word.

When morning dawned on Kirkwall, they passed each other in the Templar Hall, and their glares were full of heat that had nothing to do with enmity.


End file.
